


hit me with your best shot

by fistitout



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: All for The Game AU, Exy, F/M, Gen, The foxhole court au, used to be ‘this is what it takes’
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fistitout/pseuds/fistitout
Summary: Class I Exy was where all the attention was. High school coaches and players would put together a highlight reel and application, along with stats and news articles. Anyway to stand out against the tens of thousands of other Exy players wanting to play Class I Exy.Annabeth was not one of those people.





	hit me with your best shot

**Author's Note:**

> #1: Piper McLean, Dealer, second year  
> #2: Clarisse la Rue, Backliner, fourth year  
> #3: Thalia Grace, Backliner, fifth year, Team Captain  
> #4: Bianca di Angelo, Striker, fourth year  
> #5: Katie Gardner, Dealer, fourth year  
> #6: Miranda Gardner, Dealer, third year  
> #7: Connor Stoll, Goalkeeper, third year  
> #8: Holly Victor, Backliner, second year  
> #9: Laurel Victor, Goalkeeper, second year  
> #10: Percy Jackson, Striker, second year, Vice Captain  
> #11: Leo Valdez, Backliner, second year  
> #12: Annabeth Chase, Striker, first year

Everyday is the same. For almost ten years, it's been the same daily routine, but that doesn't change the fact that pain is pain. With a groan, Annabeth slowly sinks into her desk chair, wincing as she lay on her back. Her room door’s locked from the outside, something she's used to at this point. Her Quarter 3 report card was emailed that morning, and she knew from looking at it what was to come.

She'd gotten a 78 in her English class, mostly since she missed so many days from an inability to actually go to school. She could tell her stepmother why she got a 78, otherwise she'd have to relive the horror from two years prior.

Annabeth blinked slowly, trying to recall what day of the week it was. With a groan, she realized it was Thursday. She sat up slowly, flexing her wrists to make sure there was no permanent damage before standing, crossing her room. Annabeth dug her hands into the old window, pushing it up with whatever strength she could muster. She peered her head out, making sure it was wide enough to fit through before using a textbook to prop it open.

She turns back to grab a helmet hidden under her desk. It's old and dirty, and if it wasn't an Exy helmet it'd probably be useless. It was the only thing her school could spare, with the funds and their willingness to give her their old gear. She latched the bottom of the helmet onto her duffel filled with her own gear, her gloves and neck guard her own while the rest donations from the high school. If she hadn't grown since her fifteenth birthday two years ago she'd have been able to salvage her old gear, but life had other plans for her.

In her closet, behind the hamper and the clothes and old books and other crap, is her Exy stick, another gift from her school. This one, however, was brand new, apposed to the old racquets the team uses (if they not have one). It's all black with silver lining, long enough for her 5’8” stature and lightweight for her presence of playing Striker.

She drops her bag on the fire escape, gently placing her racquet down before climbing out herself, changing the book position to leave a crack of the window open. A chilly breeze fills the streets of New York as Annabeth stands, shouldering her bag and picking up her racquet. Her shoulder’s sore and bruised and she can feel the uncomfortable shifting of her muscles and bones as she takes slow steps down the fire escape, to the ground floor.

* * *

 

There's a gym, three blocks from her apartment. It's close enough to walk, even though that’s her only option. She can find a group of other teens and young adults tossing around an Exy ball in the small, indoor court there. Once she gets there, however, she manages to get them into two teams with subs, so they can play a scrimmage. She's not at her full capacity—fast and sneaky—but her other Striker partner, some girl named Lou, is a good match, and together they manage to score six points in the hour long match.

No one was really keeping score, except Annabeth. It was just something for fun to them, but for her it was her only chance to, somewhat, relax. She's unnecessarily aggressive in the gsm, though, which, in turn, the opposing team retaliated by being equally aggressive. She'd probably have to find a new gym after that.

The sky as already dark, the ground barely illuminated by the sparse street lights. Annabeth walked slowly, her left leg throbbing from a bad fall and her entire body sore and tired. Her calves burned from over exertion, the to point where it had turned into a numb feeling. Annabeth knew, though, that'd she'd have to fend for herself for dinner. Just another few blocks past the gym was an old diner that ran until midnight.

She sat in her own booth, legs up on the cushion as she slowly picked at her meal. One of her classmates, Nyssa Barrera, was working that night, and had provided Annabeth with some ice for her sore ankle. Nyssa came around again, sliding in across from Annabeth.

“You're gonna get yourself killed, Chase,” Nyssa said.

Annabeth shrugged, feeling her stiff shoulders at the motion.

“Someone's here to see you.”

Annabeth glanced up at the empty diner. There were three other people beside her and Nyssa—a college-aged man in the back corner, drinking a beer and typing up on a laptop; another older man, maybe middle-aged, sitting at the counter, a briefcase by his side; and another waitress, sitting on her phone.

“Why?” Annabeth asked.

Nyssa shrugged. “He says he won't come unless you're okay with it.”

“Okay.” she simply responded. “I guess, I mean.”

Nyssa nodded, standing up and heading back toward the counter. Not a minute later, the older man slid into the booth, setting clear, brown eyes framed by thick glasses on Annabeth. His thick, chocolate brown hair was neatly combed back, a dark shade than his suede suit jacket and almost matching his dark pants.

"Annabeth Chase.” he said in a deep voice, laced with a thick accent, British or something.

“I know my name,” she responded breezily. “Now, what's yours?”

The man chuckled lightly. “They call me Coach Brunner.”

“That's nice. Now what's your actual name?” Annabeth questioned. “See me? My actual name is Emilia Athena, but now I'm Annabeth. What's your name?”

“Coach Chiron Brunner.”

“Chiron? Like the horse?”

“Athena, like the goddess?” Coach Brunner countered. “Yes, Annabeth, we all have strange names. For example, one of my players is named Perseus. Strange, yes, but he doesn't seem to hate it, so we can't do anything about it.”

“Is there a reason you've hunted me down at…a quarter to ten in this secluded diner?” Annabeth questioned.

Coach Brunner chuckled again. “Straight to the point, Miss Chase. It's easy to say that…you've caught our eye, out west.”

“What?”

“We've seen you play, seen you practicing and your statistics. Your school sent out all they could find to as many Collegiate Exy colleges in the nation. Sure, some rejected you, but one of our…other schools, sent your statistics to us.”

“So let me get this straight,” Annabeth interrupted. “You’re a coach from a school in the west—“

“Edge Ridge University, to be exact.”

“Edge Ridge? As in Edge Ridge Pegasus?”

“You've heard of us, then.”

It was hard not to know Edge Ridge University. They were the only school in Arizona that (barely) qualified for a Class I Exy team. Most of their players consisted of ex-juvenile delinquents, usually all from a messy, broken home and with some form of a mental disability. It was like Annabeth was excerpt from their ranks. She had both ADHD and dyslexia, her birth parents were nowhere to be seen, her adoptive father dead, and her stepmother a cruel witch.

“So you came all the way from Arizona, to New York, to sign me?”

“A ill scholarship, Miss. Chase. Complete room and board, as well as a meal plan.”

Annabeth frowned. “No. I'd rather not.”

“Excuse me? This is a complete scholarship, and a chance to play Exy on an actual team, I may add.”

Annabeth shrugged. “I don't want to play for you, for your team, for Arizona. I don't want to leave New York. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm saying no.”

“Maybe you'd like to reconsider. Hopefully by morning.” Coach Brunner said nervously. “We've got thirteen players at the moment, and the ERC hasn't raised the minimum but they are getting on my case about being so close.”

“You have way more than thirteen, Brunner. Plus, isn't Bianca's brother gonna play for you too? I'm pretty sure my presence isn't necessary.”

“Two of our players transferred, and Nico chose New Rome University last week.” Coach Brunner said, a lingering sad tone.

“Well, that sucks then.” Annabeth said. “I've already completed my life plan. I will graduate in May, move into a full day shift and get out of the crummy house.”

"Annabeth—"

“I said no. Now leave me the fuck alone.” Annabeth snapped, getting to her feet.

She shouldered her bag, taking up her racquet before dropping some cash on the table and heading out of the restaurant.

 

 

[Exy Rules&Regulations](http://foxhole-court.wikia.com/wiki/Exy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I was inspired, after binge reading the Foxhole court, to write this. Also, inspired by 'before you start a war (you'd better know what you're fighting for)' or whatever it's called!  
> Kudos and comments appreciated!


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